The Full-Leveled Healer Transmigrates to a Real and Fake Rich Daughter Story - Chapter 633 - : Counterattack (2)

Ian was an ordinary guy on his way to work when he suddenly found himself in a strange and dangerous world ruled by dark races like vampires, werewolves, and demons. Transmigrated into the body of a lesser vampire, Ian must quickly adapt to his new reality where survival is a constant struggle.Just when all hope seems lost, Ian discovers he has a unique advantage: The Strongest Body Customization System, which allows him to modify and customize his body by consuming biomass. With this golden finger, Ian starts to turn the tables, designing bone claws and other enhancements to give him an edge against the terrifying werewolves and other supernatural threats.But as Ian learns more about the Curtained Imperium and the rigid hierarchies of the vampire race, he realizes that defeating his enemies is only the first step. To survive and thrive in this dark and brutal world, Ian must rise through the ranks, uncover the power of his system.Need to fly? Customize a pair of angel wings!The body is small? Add hundreds meters of height and become bigger than Godzilla!Need a weapon? Customize bone claws and kagune on the spot!

Everyone must have a few regrets in their lives, and for Mykel regret was publishing this novel on the internet. Because of this failed novel he wrote, made his career down the hill as an author. Thanks to this novel, he lost his passion and he lost everything that he had.

"I wish I can destroy this novel so that nobody will be able to see it or remember it anymore," Mykel said.

That was what he wished for, and for some reason, he went inside that novel of his and as himself in the story that didn't suppose to exist?

Mykel smirked and grinned as he looked at the system.

[You are the creator of this world, you will have the access to the command system. You are free to do anything as long as it is listed in the command system]
[Please enjoy and have fun]

"Heh, then I will turn this world upside down," Mykel said as he glared at the notification in front of him.

[COMPLETE] Can a royal Romeo and Juliet find their happy ending?

Ayleth, Princess of Zenithra, is secretly trained in hand-to-hand combat, and collects swear words she doesn't know how to use. During the Festival of Peace, in which every royal son on the continent will be at the castle for a month, she is instructed by her parents to find a husband. Yet, Ayleth has never even been kissed—until the very first ball, when she meets the man in the Lion mask.

Etan is a seasoned warrior, and the Prince of Summitras. He attends the Festival hoping to find a powerful wife who will help him conquer the dark sorcery of their bloodsworn enemies, the Kingdom of Zenithra. But at the very first ball, he discovers the masked woman who captures his heart is the Heir to the evil empire.

Ayleth and Etan face an impossible battle. Will their love survive? Or will their parents' dark dealings keep them apart forever?

[Mature content. No sexual violence.]

******

“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

“No, Ayleth. This changes nothing.”

“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

“Ayleth, please.” His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the maid had managed for her.

His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

“Please, Ayleth.”

“I cannot deny it,” she whispered.

A replica of Marquis Kieran Vale, the son of the Marchioness of Vale, who she deemed a failure. That was all she was. No, she was now referred to as “he.” At least until she met Claude Del Ihar.